Stories by dave zirin

By Dave Zirin on April 20, 2014

This baseball season, we are faced with the prospect of the last year of New York Yankees shortstop Derek Jeter. When Jeter first put on a Yankees uniform, the world was a profoundly different place.

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By Dave Zirin on July 27, 2013

Unless it's commodified, laid out over a beat, and marketed to suburban white teens getting their ghetto fix, there is no freedom to be angry in black America.

From Jim Crow to the New Jim Crow to Fox News fulminations about the New Black Panthers, there lurks an existential fear to, in the words of Ronald Reagan, "hold back the jungle."

Nowhere on the cultural landscape is black anger policed more vigorously than in the world of sports. Ask Roddy White and Victor Cruz.

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By Dave Zirin on February 23, 2013

Florida Atlantic may go down in history as the school that dropped all pretense and brought the gridiron and the prison together.

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By Dave Zirin on April 11, 2012

Guillen was forced to grovel like a broken man at a press conference that was missing only a stockade.

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By Dave Zirin on May 10, 2011

Last year, there were protests outside twenty different Major League ballparks to oppose the staging of the All-Star Game this summer in Arizona.

In addition to the action outside the park, more than two dozen players, including Albert Pujols and Michael Young, voiced their displeasure with Arizona's anti-immigrant laws.

At least four All-Stars from last year, including Adrian Gonzalez of the Boston Red Sox and the Brewers' Yovani Gallardo, said they would boycott the game if it goes ahead in Arizona as planned.

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By Dave Zirin on February 15, 2011

There was a time in this country when 40 percent of all workers were unionized. There was a time when every major newspaper had a reporter for its labor beat. There was a time when "class consciousness" didn't mean that the wealthy class was conscious of getting more tax breaks.

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By Dave Zirin on February 25, 2010

The range of ugliness on display—from the catty to the racist to the fatal—is significant because it exposes the reality of what the Winter Olympics are all about: television and corporate dollars.

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By Ruth Conniff

Wisconsin workers face a lousy jobs picture this Labor Day, according to...

Here, for Labor Day, are the top ten working class hero movies of all time.

At a swank club in Madison, Walker supporters get an earful.

By Wendell Berry

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more 
of everything ready made. Be afraid 
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery 
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card 
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something 
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know. 
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord. 
Love the world. Work for nothing. 
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it. 
Denounce the government and embrace 
the flag. Hope to live in that free 
republic for which it stands. 
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man 
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers. 
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.


Say that the leaves are harvested 
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus 
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion—put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come. 
Expect the end of the world. Laugh. 
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts. 
So long as women do not go cheap 
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy 
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep 
of a woman near to giving birth? 
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie easy in the shade. Rest your head 
in her lap. Swear allegiance 
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos 
can predict the motions of your mind, 
lose it. Leave it as a sign 
to mark the false trail, the way 
you didn’t go. Be like the fox 
who makes more tracks than necessary, 
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

Wendell Berry is a poet, farmer, and environmentalist in Kentucky. This poem, first published in 1973, is reprinted by permission of the author and appears in his “New Collected Poems” (Counterpoint).

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